


Cantaloupe

by link621



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-17
Updated: 2005-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26400451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/link621/pseuds/link621
Summary: Oishi's parents need a few things from the grocery store. Incidentally, they aren't the only ones.
Relationships: Kikumaru Eiji/Ooishi Shuuichirou





	Cantaloupe

If there was one singularly annoying thing about being the “good son,” it was that his parents always assume he was more than happy to run errands for him at the drop of the hat… worse yet, he really was. Well, perhaps not “happy” so much as “obligated” and thus “reluctant,” but the fine print of the situation was not really the problem at hand.

The problem was being asked to go out for groceries at nine in the evening because his father wanted to have milk for his coffee in the morning. After that small revelation, his mother sent him out for all manner of things from the store – handing him a small wad of money and a list before ushering him out the door with a jacket and a kiss on the cheek.

So it was that, while staring woefully at the cantaloupe knowing full well he had never been taught how to pick a melon, he wondered if his friends ever were forced into such inane tasks. Certainly no other mother cared for a fully ripe cantaloupe at nine at night? His mother could not possibly be the solitary crazy one…

“Oishi!” He nearly jumped out of his skin, turning to the speaker. He was met with a pair of surprised blue eyes and a controlled smile. Fuji had a shopping basket slung over one arm holding enough items that it did not look like his slight arm should have been able to hold it, but Oishi knew better than to think Fuji fragile.

Finally able to process the situation, Oishi smiled back. “Fuji. What are you doing here?” That was a strange question to ask in a grocery store – obviously Fuji was shopping. Realizing this only after he spoke, Oishi went back to staring intently at the cantaloupe, as if he would have better luck now that he had more blood in his face.

With a chuckle, Fuji lifted one of the cantaloupe from the display and knocked on it as one might politely rap on the door of a neighbor. “Eiji suddenly called and said he wanted ice cream, so we decided to come get some snacks.” He then lifted the melon to his nose, smelling it with a pensive expression. “This one should be good.” He plopped the melon in Oishi’s own shopping basket.

The only part of that entire statement that had registered was “Eiji” followed a few silent moments later by “ice cream” and finally Fuji sniffing the melon. “You smell them?” He looked curiously at the melon Fuji had selected… it looked no different from the others. He lifted the cantaloupe from the basket and brought it to his nose – indeed, it smelled sweet as the fresh-cut fruit would. Strange… should it not smell like the skin of the fruit?

“Eiji should be around here, somewhere,” commented Fuji. “He told me to meet him over at his house for a movie night, but he can’t have made it out of the store too quickly. I’m sure he’d like it if you came, too. You should try to find him.” With that, Fuji was off looking into a different fruit – this time it was apples. Granny Smiths. Of course Fuji liked Granny Smiths.

“Ice cream,” Oishi finally said aloud, shifting the basket to his left hand and heading toward the frozen foods. He passed frozen dinners and all number of strange things that would probably rot teeth much faster than ice cream before he finally made it to the section of the store that resembled rather a large freezer – he was quite happy for his mother’s insistence upon the jacket.

Ahead of him, as promised, was the redheaded tennis player reaching up to the top shelf of one of the freezers to get the ice cream of his choice. As Oishi watched, Kikumaru lost his footing and began falling backwards only to land hard on his rear end with an “umpf.” He did get the ice cream, at least.

“Hey, are you okay?” Oishi set down his shopping basket and went to Kikumaru’s side, kneeling. The boy glanced up at him, surprised for a moment before his face twisted.

He looked… scandalized?

His mouth twisted in a pout. “Oishiiii, you could have caught me if you saw me falling!” The redhead held out his free hand, waiting for Oishi to take it and bring them both to a stand. “Why are you here so late?”

“Not for ice cream,” Oishi said with a chuckle, catching the name of the ice cream… it had to be ten words long! Probably each word was to define yet another gob of sugar to replace any actual ice cream – sugar Kikumaru did not need by any stretch of the imagination. “I’m done with my shopping, though, if you’re ready to check out. Fuji said he was supposed to be meeting up with you.”

“Fuji’s here?” Immediately, Kikumaru brightened. “Oh! You should come, too! Oishi, we’re watching movies and you have to come or I won’t be your partner anymore!”

With a nervous chuckle, Oishi murmured, “Don’t say things like that, Eiji…”

“So, you’re coming,” added Kikumaru as though Oishi had never spoken. He threw his free arm around Oishi’s back, his right still clutching the ice cream like a trophy.

When they got to the cash register, Fuji was nowhere in sight. The woman working at the register, Oishi noticed, was cute… probably in her last year of secondary school or first year of university. Shoulder-length brown hair, dark eyes, nice skin… she had a nice smile.

They did not speak as she rang up his items, as she counted his change back to him, however, she suddenly made eye contact. “None of the items you bought were on sale – I don’t have anything nice to say to you.” He blinked at her. “Except… you look nice.” She winked causing a blush to explode across Oishi’s cheeks. With a hasty thanks, he took his change and receipt from her, putting them in the bag.

However, as he was going to wish her a good night, Kikumaru suddenly wrangled him around the neck, pulling him sideways and planted a kiss on his cheek. Oishi felt his body go entirely rigid, the color in his cheeks draining away. He only barely registered Kikumaru’s words.

“He’s worth every cent,” the redhead told the cashier, a scandalous tone in his voice. Oishi could only be dragged mechanically away from the surprised cashier out into the night air by his partner.

A few steps into the parking lot, Kikumaru released him, happily hugging his ice cream to his chest instead. Oishi very abruptly came to his senses – his sense of decency at the forefront.

“E—Eiji! My mother shops here! The manager knows my family! How… how can I… I can never shop again!” He wilted, flopping into a heap on one of the cement dividers between parking spaces. “Oh god – what if I forgot something! I hope I didn’t forget something! I am not going back in there!” Frantically, he went for his shopping list in his back jeans pocket, squirming to get it from under his body.

“Just tell your mom that we’re a couple,” suggested the redhead flippantly, causing his partner to cease in his search for the list and break out into a violent coughing fit instead. Oishi barely had the air to demand what Kikumaru meant before he continued, “It’s sort of true, right? We’re a pair, after all.”

“Eiji – we aren’t dating!” An alarm in his head was wailing, reminding him that he should not be shouting all this across the parking lot of a public place after nine at night, but logic was failing to control impulse, in that moment.

Suddenly Kikumaru was on his knees in front of Oishi, his face very close. And, his lips were on his face. His lips that had kissed Oishi were on his face that was very close. Panic seized Oishi and once again he found himself entirely still and quiet – the concept of breathing being important to survival fled him with his logic.

“You don’t like me?”

“No! I like you.” Flushing, Oishi amended, “I mean, I like you as my friend. You’re my friend.”

Kikumaru frowned. “I’m not dateable.”

“No, it isn’t that! You’re attractive. I mean, I think you’re attractive.” Oishi wished he could close his mouth and stop himself from continuing to dig this hole of his. “I like you a lot – I want to be with you. Just… it’s not like that…” The last he wanted to wail, but it came out in an undignified whisper as his head drooped. “You’re dateable.”

“You’ll go out with me?”

“I didn’t—“

His protest was cut off by lips on his own – what a strange new sensation. His heart followed the example of his lungs and brain and stopped functioning entirely… either that, or time had stopped. The gentle breeze suggested otherwise.

He only just heard the scritch on the pavement before Kikumaru jerked away, looking slowly up to someone beyond Oishi’s shoulder. A thin hand reached out and knocked Kikumaru on the head.

“Yes, I do think this one is ripe,” said Fuji from behind Oishi. “I do believe you’ve learned how to select a cantaloupe.”


End file.
